The First Lost Boy
by DwaejiTokki
Summary: Where did the Lost Boys come from, and why does Peter Pan befriend them? This is the story of the very first Lost Boy, James. Follow the boys as they make mischief with mermaids, imitate the indians, and fly with the fairies! What sort of trouble will they get into?
1. Peter Pan

The First Lost Boy

**Rating:** K+, because Peter Pan is for everybody, especially Disney's version, on which this is based.

**Summary:** Where did the Lost Boys come from, and why does Peter Pan befriend them? This is the story of the very first Lost Boy, James. Follow the boys as they make mischief with mermaids, imitate the indians, and fly with the fairies! What sort of trouble will they get into?

**Disclaimer:** I don't, nor will I ever, own Peter Pan-any version of it.

Chapter 1: Peter Pan

I remember that night clearly enough, despite my young age. My mother had just tucked me into bed with a goodnight kiss, and left the door open just a crack to allow in a sliver of light. A small candle burned on my bedside table-when it burned down and extinguished itself, I would be asleep. Except that didn't happen that night.

Instead, I saw a shadow flit across my window, immediately followed by a darting round yellow light. I sat up in my bed, clutching my blankets to my chin. What was it? A cold feeling grew in my chest when I saw it happen again, coming back from the other direction. My heart fell when I realized that my window was open, and that whatever it was could easily get inside. I tried to call for my mother, but my voice was lost somewhere in my throat. After a long horrible moment, I decided to get up and shut the window myself.

At first my legs wouldn't move. But then I suddenly found myself standing at the window sill, my back to my dark room. I slowly moved outside my light curtain, which hung still in the damp air, and looked out. The stars were bright outside, though there was no moon, and few lamplights were lit in the street. The house across from mine was dark, as were the others. Everyone had gone to bed. I vaguely wondered if the other children on my street saw the shadow and light too, and whether they were at their windows in their nightclothes looking out. In any case it was too dark to see clearly.

I shuddered, my skin prickling, and reached out to grasp the window and pull it inside-but abruptly halted when I saw the face. I gasped and stumbled back, eyes wide. Suddenly the boy was inside my room, pressing a warm hand to mouth and shushing me. "It's all right," he repeated quietly, looking at me with earnest hazel eyes.

I gaped at him, this stranger I'd never seen before. He had unruly red hair tucked into a pointed green cap, and a red feather stuck out of it. He had a small button nose and slightly pointed ears, which I attributed to a trick of the light-or lack thereof-because pointed ears were strange and unheard of except in stories. His clothing was the same bright green as his hat, and very old fashioned. His collared tunic was belted at the waist with a small knife hanging from his hip, and his green tights disappeared into tan pointed shoes. It was when I noticed his shoes that I saw that he was not very tall, as I had first thought-he was floating in the air!

I scrambled away from him. "Gh-Gh-Ghost!" I tried to scream, but all that came out was a frightened whisper.

"Huh?" the boy cocked his head at me and then stood on the floor, hands on his hips. "Ghost? Ha! ha! ha! I'm not a ghost. I'm Peter Pan, of course."

"P-Peter Pan?" I repeated dumbly.

"Yes. No need to be frightened of me," he grinned. Then he looked around my room, which was very bare and dark but for my candle at my bedside. "Hm. You could use a bit of decorating."

"What do you want?" I asked, sounding braver than I felt. I was uncomfortably aware of my night shirt sticking to my back.

His eyes found me again, nearly to the door. "Hm," he said thoughtfully, putting his fingers on his chin. As he thought his feet detached from the floor and he began to drift through the air, slowly pinwheeling until he was upside-down, at which point his face lit up and he spread his limbs excitedly. "I'm looking for a friend!"

"Huh?"

Peter Pan flitted over to me. "Neverland is boring all alone," he said. "Well, of course there are the Indians and the fairies and mermaids and what have you, but I'm bored of them. I want a real friend, one who will play with me and have adventures!"

I stared at him. For a moment I wondered if he was crazy-but then I realized he was still flying and looking at me expectantly. Then I wondered if I were the crazy one, or whether I was dreaming. To make sure, I pinched my arm. I was certainly awake.

"Well, what do you say, uh...?" Peter Pan trailed off.

"James," I replied swiftly, my manners coming even in strange moments. "And what do you mean, what do I say?"

"Well James," Peter Pan chortled, "I mean to say I want you to come to Neverland with me!"

"What is Neverland?"

"You'll never grow up there. There's no grownups, and you can do whatever you want! It's lots of fun." As he spoke the yellow light flitted into the window and circled his head. He swatted at it absently, knocking it aside.

I watched it, entranced. "What is that? A firefly?"

"Huh?" It was then that he seemed to notice the light. "Oh, that's Tink. Don't mind her, she's just impatient."

"What's a Tink?"

"Not a what," Peter Pan replied, holding up a finger. The little light landed on it, and I leaned closer to see it. "A who. Tinker Bell is a fairy." To my amazement, Peter Pan was right. On the tip of his finger perched a tiny girl, dressed in what appeared to be a leaf. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun. She ignored me by turning her back, and I heard the tiniest of squeaks as the fairy began to speak animatedly to Peter Pan.

"Wh-What's she saying?" I asked, for Peter Pan seemed to understand her.

He chuckled. "She doesn't like my idea." Then he suddenly snatched her in his other hand, careful to avoid her shimmering wings. Tink squeaked angrily and struggled. "You are coming, aren't you, James?" he asked, looking at me imploringly.

"Well," I said uncertainly, still mesmerized by Tink's radiance, "where is Neverland?"

"That's easy!" he exclaimed. "Come over here." I went to stand beside him at the window, out of which he pointed up at the night sky. "You see those two bright stars over there? Neverland is the second star to the right."

"Is it?" I asked. "But how do you get there?" By then I taken to completely believing the boy. After all, the whole situation was strange and I was sure it could get no weirder.

"Why, flying of course!"

"I can't fly, though," I said bluntly.

"With a pinch of pixie dust, you can."

I looked at Peter Pan just in time to see him lift Tink over my head and shake her rather violently. A plume of glitter appeared to explode around her tiny form, then slowly drift down atop my head of dark hair. I felt a light tingling sensation, but nothing more. I glanced down to see that my feet were still planted firmly on the floor. "Well?"

"Now think of the happiest things-it's just the same as having wings!" Peter Pan said, rising off the floor as though to demonstrate.

I lowered my gaze and thought hard. What made me happy? Suddenly I thought of my mother's baking, and I had a light-headed sensation. My toes were no longer touching the floor! With a surge of confidence, I began to think of other happy things. Sunshine! Sailing on the great ship with my uncle! Playing with the neighbor's dogs! The more I thought the higher I rose.

"You're flying!" Peter Pan exclaimed proudly.

I laughed giddily. "Well how do I move, then?"

With a grin, Peter Pan grabbed my wrist and darted out of the window, saying, "You'll get the hang of it!"

I gasped at the rush of cool air, and then again when I looked down to see that I was hanging far above the ground. If I fell, surely I'd die. "Peter!" I cried, clutching his arm.

He only laughed. "Don't be frightened! Look ahead at the second star to the right. Its light will lead us to Neverland!"

It took much effort to tear my eyes from the dark cityscape rolling beneath me, but when I did, I saw that Peter Pan was leading me higher and higher into the sky, and that the stars were growing ever closer. I felt my breath hitch in my chest at the beauty of it. I felt myself relax, and I suddenly found that I was enjoying the sensation of flight. We came so close to the bright star that I thought I could reach out and touch it.

Peter Pan suddenly gave a shrill cry like a rooster before diving at it, and for a moment I expected to hit a wall and fall to my doom. But I didn't. As Peter Pan flew through the star, so did I, and a rainbow swirled around us, whipping at our hair and clothes. As quickly as it began, it was over, and I found myself in another land.

Far below me was a sparkling blue sea under a bright blue sky, which was filled with puffy white clouds and huge rainbows. A lone green island rose from the sea, and on it I could see mountains and rivers and trees, and in the lagoon was a tiny rock outcropping, upon which rested a shimmering mermaid with flowing hair. A thin trail of smoke rose from the west side of the island, and in a small clearing I could see tiny teepees-the Indians Peter Pan had spoken of. All in all, I found that I was once more unable to breathe due to the unimaginable beauty.

"Ready?" Peter Pan asked me. Before I could think to reply, he released my hand, and in shock of that I plummeted toward the ground. Far above me I heard Peter Pan call, "You can fly! You can fly!"

I squeezed my eyes shut and thought of my bedroom, where I should be sleeping, and suddenly the wind ceased roaring in my ears. I took a deep, shuddering breath and looked around. I was floating dangerously close the tree tops, and at my side was Peter Pan, looking quite smug and relaxed. His pose was that of his cheek resting in his palm as he lay on his side, though there was nothing but air beneath him.

"Peter Pan!" I cried. "I could have died then!"

"But you didn't," he pointed out. I would have gotten a few more words in had he not flown off, calling over his shoulder, "Come on and I'll show you my secret hideout!"

I growled angrily but followed.

There really was nothing secret at all about his secret hideout. In fact, it was quite in the open, and seen for miles around, and Peter Pan had spared no decor if he could help it. On a broad step of the mountain, Peter Pan had found a cave, which he had filled with various odds and ends including but not limited to: chairs, tables, animal skins of varying species and size, candles (some were quite used up), an old shoe, jewelry, a music box, umbrellas, blankets, and beads. With a start, I realized that he must have taken these things from my world, for I certainly hadn't seen any factories on the island that would make such objects. Outside, all around the entrance Peter Pan had splashed a variety of paints, leaving a splendid display that said "Here I am!"

"It's," I hesitated, looking around and then spotting his eager expression, "nice."

"Isn't it?" he agreed, putting his hands on his hips. Tink darted past and disappeared into a hanging birdhouse at the end of the cave, haughtily slamming the tiny door behind her.

"What's the matter with her?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I never know what's got into her," he replied. "But no matter! Let's go explore, James. I'll show you around."

"Okay," I replied.

At the rounded entrance Peter Pan suddenly stopped and turned back with a serious expression. "James," he said. "Do you want to grow up?"

"Huh?" When he didn't clarify what he had meant, I thought about it. Did I want to grow up? I thought of my parents, the grownups I knew best. They always seemed tired and sad, and always complained about food and money and work. I didn't want to be like that. "No, I don't," I finally replied.

He nodded approvingly, face lighting up. "Okay, now I have to give you a proper name."

"Proper name?" I spluttered. "I've got one! It's James, of course."

"No, no," he said. "I mean, you're the first friend I've ever had! So I want to give you a name." He put his fingers on his chin thoughtfully again, brow furrowed. I entirely didn't approve of being renamed, but being his first friend I supposed I could deal with it. "Aha! You're a Lost Boy!"

"A Lost Boy?"

"Yes, a Lost Boy!"

"What's a Lost Boy?"

"You!" With that, he leapt off the edge of the mountain and spun around in the air, crowing like a rooster the whole while.

Lost Boy, I admit, had a nice ring to it. And being the first one, I supposed it was all well a title to have. So I silently accepted it, and, thinking of the feeling of the summer waves lapping at my feet as my toes dug into the sand, I joined Peter Pan in the clear sky.

**A/N:** Firstly, I love Peter Pan. When I was kid, I was all about him. I'd stay up at night and open my window and invite him in, wondering why he never showed up (it was because he was busy, and plus Tink was jealous of me, so yeah). In later years I started to think more of the Lost Boys, and how they came to be in Neverland. I know there are theories out there that the kids are dead and whatnot, but I don't believe it. You'll see in later chapters what I mean.

Secondly, this is what, my fourth? fanfic, and it's still probably not very good. I'm not so proud of my last one because it was so rushed, and I was going to go back to it, but I just don't have the heart for it now. So I'm gonna do this one.

Third: Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! If you have any suggestions or wants for the boys' adventures in later chapters, just drop it in a review or a PM and I'll try to work it in! ^-^


	2. Mischief with Mermaids

Chapter 2: Mischief with Mermaids

"These, James, are the mermaids," Peter Pan said, gesturing grandly to what he had dubbed "mermaid lagoon."

I peered through the leaves of the bush behind which we were hiding. Three girls sat upon the rocks underneath two small waterfalls, washing and combing their long hair. From the waist up, they were girls, and they wore no shirts, which caused the heat in my cheeks to rise, but from the waist down they had the body of a fish. They were very strange creatures, but I wasn't so surprised because my sea-faring uncle had told me lots of mermaid tales.

"They're alright," I shrugged, rather unimpressed. "They're not doing anything, though."

"Not yet," Peter smirked, winking at me.

"Do you know them?" I asked.

"Well," he said. "I tell them stories sometimes, but other than that we don't talk. Actually, I'm not sure they understand me." At this he looked troubled, as though he had never thought of that before.

"Hmph," I said, looking at them again. Two of them had taken up a game of lightly splashing the other. "What do they do all day, anyway?"

"Nothing, really," Peter Pan shrugged.

"So why do you come down here?" I asked.

"To show you!" he retorted, offended. "If you don't appreciate my tour, I can just go off and play with the indians for a while-by myself." He folded his arms across his chest and pouted.

"I appreciate your tour," I said quickly to appease him. He gave me a sidelong look to show he was listening. "I was just wondering whether we could do something with the mermaids."

This perked his interest. "Like what?"

"Like," I dragged the word out thoughtfully, "trick them?"

"I like tricks," Peter Pan replied, lowering his voice to a husky whisper. "What shall we do?"

I frowned as Peter watched me eagerly. What could we do? My eyes hovered over their bathing forms, then caught onto the cascading water. Then they traveled upwards and stopped at the source. An idea lit a smile on my face. "I know!"

After relaying my ingenious plan, Peter and I set out, suppressing snickers and creeping as close to the ground as we could until we were surely out of their sights. We happily thought of the plan, and then floated up the side of the outcropping from where the waterfalls came. The cool water gaily tumbled over the edge, excited at the prospect of returning to the ocean. But unfortunately for one particular stream, it would never reach home.

"That one," I whispered, pointed to a great boulder. "Help me move it!"

So we worked to roll the huge rock toward the nearer waterfall. It was an even tougher job since we had to be quiet about it, but somehow we managed it. It fit perfectly over the path of the water, and dammed it quite well. Peter and I shared a proud glance, grinning as the confused and outraged cries of the mermaids reached us.

But we weren't done there. No, there was much more mischief to be caused that day in mermaid lagoon.

As the fish girls were preoccupied with their waterfall plight, we snuck down and around the lagoon, careful to keep out of sight. For the next prank we would have to move quickly. It wouldn't do if they left before the fun started.

Still sure to stay out of their sights, I set to work digging while Peter, as the more experienced flyer, went to the beach to get the other materials. Moments later, he returned, arms laden with sopping wet seaweed.

"Perfect," I said, clapping him on the shoulder as he dropped them at my feet. "I've dug up plenty of mud, I think."

He pressed a grimy hand over his mouth to stifle his chortling.

As we worked, we could still hear the mermaids chattering angrily. They still hadn't figured out what had happened to their favorite waterfall, and were fighting over who got to use the second to wash their hair. Which was fine by us, as long is it kept them distracted.

Soon enough, we had finished, and admired each other's work. Peter and I shared one last gleeful look before dropping strands of muddy seaweed over our faces. We burst out the trees, screaming at the tops of our lungs.

Through the green haze I saw the mermaids whip around to face us as we staggered out, arms raised. Fear crossed their pretty faces, as all they saw were two green, furry monsters running toward them. Each one squealing as though she had been burned, they dove into the lagoon and splashed to safety, down to the bottom. , furry monsters running toward them. Each one squealing as though she had been burned, they dove into the lagoon and splashed to safety, down to the bottom. When we saw that the sparkling water and the rocks were completely deserted, Peter and I abandoned our screams and burst out laughing.

Peter drifted up into the air, clutching his belly. The seaweed began to lose their holds on us and slid off onto the ground. I gasped for air, cheeks burning from my wide grin. I imagined my face was red under the mud, and that Peter's was as well. After what felt like hours of hysterics, we both calmed down enough to look at one another, covered in mud and a few bits of seaweed.

As a final measure, we gathered a few large leaves and painted red pictures of nonsensical things. Then we set them gently upon the water and allowed the current to carry them off. When the mermaids returned, they would find these warnings and be frightened once more. I only wished I could have seen it.

"You have the greatest ideas, James!" Peter Pan exclaimed, wiping his eyes. He only spread the mud around more.

"It couldn't have been done without you," I replied, though I was rather proud of myself.

"Let's get out of here before they come back," Peter said wisely.

I thought of the fish girls' screams, and with another fit of giggles floated upwards and followed Peter away from mermaid lagoon. I knew I would remember that day fondly for the rest of my life. I couldn't wait to tell my uncle about the mermaids.

"So James," Peter said, turning to face me and flying backwards, "what other tricks do you do?"

"Hm," I hummed thoughtfully. "Well, in my world I play lots of tricks, but because of that I have not many friends."

"Hey, you have me!" Peter exclaimed. "I love tricks!"

I smiled. "Yes, yes. Let's see, once I tricked my uncle into thinking his ship was on fire!"

Peter Pan's eyebrows flew up, nearly disappearing into his hair. "Wow! How'd you manage that, James?"

With a smirk, I explained, "Green leaves smolder but don't burn. So just light a few of those carefully, and you've got a lot of smoke but no fire."

At that Peter laughed. "I'd have liked to see the look on that grownup's face!"

I laughed with him. "Oh," I uttered. "Another time, at the schoolhouse, I replaced all the blackboard chalk with charcoal-so nothing the teacher wrote showed up!"

Another howl of laughter from my friend. "You're amazing, James! I'm so glad you're my friend."

I beamed at him, feeling happier than I'd felt in a very long while. "I'm ever so glad you're mine as well."

Together we flew off to another adventure in Neverland.

**A/N:** Thanks for reading! If you happen to have any mischievous ideas, feel free to drop it in a review or a PM. :) Any predictions for the story, or a direction that you'd like to see it go?

Join us next time, when James and Peter imitate the indians!


	3. Imitating the Indians

Chapter 3: Imitating the Indians

It was another day of exploration for Peter and me-well, rather it was another day of receiving a tour from Peter. This time he showed me the indian camp.

It was a bright day and all the indians were out, attending to chores or dancing or lounging in the shade smoking long colorful pipes. Peter Pan brazenly flew into the camp, crowing like a rooster to announce his presence. He was greeted with a few cheers and smiles, but for the most part he was ignored.

"Come on, James!" he called back to me.

I stepped out from behind the tree and entered the camp. The teepees were a lot taller than I had imagined, seeming to tower over me. Several fire pits were scattered throughout the camp, where a few women sat and cooked some sort of stew in great pots. A group of men sat near a grand teepee, laughing and chattering as they sharpened their arrowheads. Children dressed in deerskins ran about shouting loudly, except for one girl around our age, who stood beside a humungous man. This man was obviously the chief by the way he carried himself-not to mention his headdress of huge dyed feathers.

"How," he said in a deep voice, raising a palm in a fluid motion.

Peter Pan swooped over his head and snagged the chief's headdress, placing it atop his own head before landing beside me. "How," he mimicked, making as deep a voice as he could.

I stifled a grin and repeated the gesture.

The chief was unamused, lowering his hand back to its folded position over his broad chest. His daughter looked from me to Peter shyly, her pretty eyes batting.

"That's Tiger Lily," Peter said to me when he caught me staring at her. Then he gestured to the glaring chief, "And Big Chief. He may look like a mean old grownup, but he's okay."

I nodded in response. "So what do we do here?"

"Be indians!" he exclaimed, throwing the headdress back to Big Chief, who didn't even move to catch it. It smacked against his chest and then fell to his feet, where he ignored it.

I lingered for a moment, wondering whether I should pick it up, but then thought better of it and raced after Peter. He had found several bowls of what looked like paint, and in these he stuck his hands and rubbed across his face to make stripes and circles. When he was done, he could have passed for an indian except for his bright hair and clothes. Without hesitation, I knelt beside the bowls and gathered some paint on my fingertips-red and white. I figured a simple streak across my cheekbones would suffice, but Peter was not impressed and took it upon himself to make me an indian. He dumped a blue bowl over my head, and it dripped down my face and back, drenching my hair.

For a moment, all I could think was that my mother would scold me, but then I remembered that she was not here, and a big grin etched itself onto my lips. With a cunning look at Peter Pan, I picked up a yellow paint bowl and crept towards him.

"Oh no you don't," Peter laughed, toes leaving the soft ground. "Any more makeup and I'll be too heavy to fly!"

"Walking is good for you," I replied, tossing the bowl.

He easily dodged it, and the paint made a beautiful yellow arc as it left the falling bowl. Several children who had been playing nearby were drenched, and then looked to me as though offended.

"Oops," I uttered, freezing. Just when I thought I would get into trouble, the indian children burst out in giggles, seeing one another splattered.

Peter landed behind them in a crouch and then leapt up with a guttural noise, imitating a monster. The children screamed in delight and began a game of chase, which Peter made me join as he attacked me with tickling fingers.

The little indian children and I managed to hide and regroup behind Big Chief's teepee, where we decided to think of a plan. It was then I realized that I couldn't understand them, and they couldn't understand me. In my despair, I didn't notice Tiger Lily appear behind me until she tapped me on my shoulder.

I nearly screamed, but she pressed a soft, cool hand over my mouth and made a shushing noise. Then she motioned for us to follow her, and she peered around the side of the teepee before turning and smiling at us. Tiger Lily made a shrill indian cry as she ran out, arms raised and waving madly. The small boys behind me followed her example, and it was then I realized that she was leading an attack on Peter!

Peter roared like a monster and tackled the first indian to reach him, but the others were not far behind, and they piled on top of him. He managed to wriggle an arm free from the giggling mass of bodies and extended it toward me. "James!" he cried, mock-fearfully. "Help me!"

I only laughed. "I'm not the monster, Peter! You are!"

"Agh, curse you James!" he replied, his arm disappearing again. After a moment, the children suddenly were knocked aside and tumbled over each other to the ground. Peter victoriously rose from the bottom of the pile, hands on his hips. "Aha! I am free at last," he declared. He drew the small dagger he wore at his waist. "And now for a duel!"

He flew at me, and dodged. "Hey! I have no weapon, Peter! No fair!"

"Get one! get one!" he said as he flew past, turning in the air.

The nearest weapon I spotted was a bow and arrow, which I grabbed and pointed at him. "Aha, and what will you do now?" I demanded, smirking. "For with this I can shoot you down, but you can only deal close-range attacks!"

"Only indians can use those!" Peter Pan protested, pointed his dagger at me accusingly.

"I am an indian," I retorted, grabbing the arrow's shaft in my hand and pointing it at him.

At that Peter cocked his head and lowered to ground, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Instead of that," he said suddenly, "use the arrow as a sword!"

"Huh?" I looked down at it. "But it's an arrow."

"Use your imagination, James! You can make it anything you want. It's Neverland!" Peter pinwheeled in the air, dagger still out and awaiting its promised duel.

I looked at the wooden arrow skeptically. Then I closed my eyes and wished it were a sword so I could defeat Peter Pan. Peter gave a shrill whoop after a moment, and I opened my eyes to see a long, gleaming sword with a golden hilt.

Then I was attacked, and I parried Peter's swings with my blade. We were of equal strength, but Peter was quicker and nimbler, mostly because I was stuck on the ground. I was too preoccupied to think of anything happy.

"Drat you, Peter Pan!" I gasped when he got close enough to nick my shirt. "I'll get you for that!"

He only laughed, and after making a fluid backflip landed on his toes, tucking away his dagger. "I win," he said primly.

I scowled. But after a moment, I shrugged. I would get better with practice. I knew one day I would be able to defeat him at his own game.

The sun began to set, so Peter suggested that we return home and get some rest for our next big adventure. I agreed, and thinking of my nice soft bed back home, flew off after him. I couldn't wait to tell my parents about the indians.

**A/N:** Gah, I'm so hungry ;-; /college life/

Anyway, any predictions? Anyone know who James is? A lot of you probably know just because his name is James, but...eh.

There was something I wanted to tell you guys but I really don't remember now. Hm. Oh wait: Thanks for reading! I really appreciate it~

Join us next time for Flying with Fairies!


	4. Flying with Fairies

Chapter 4: Flying with Fairies

"Come on, Tink," Peter begged, pressing his palms together as though he were praying.

Tinker Bell only folded her arms and turned away with a tiny "Humph!"

"But Tink!" he cried. "I want to show James the other fairies! You have to take us."

She only shook her head no.

"Fine then." Peter stood up, looking rather cross. "Then James and I will just have to go out and find the fairies ourselves. I'm sure we'll find them, and we'll have lots of fun and play music and dance. We certainly won't run into danger or anything like that. We won't get caught in bear traps or fall upon pointed spikes or get eaten by a lion. Nothing of the sort."

By then Tinker Bell had turned around, conflicting emotions evident on her tiny face. As Peter went closer and closer to the cavern entrance, Tink finally stamped her feet, cheeks turning bright red. She flitted after him, quick as a beam of light, and started to lead the way.

Peter winked at me triumphantly, and we followed her out into the woods, flying through branches and dodging trees. More than once I was struck in the face by a handful of leaves, which rather stung. I suspected the fairy led us through a difficult path purposefully in hopes of deterring us from our fun. But we pressed on, and eventually we reached a tiny clearing, which to a fairy must have been quite large, where hundreds of glowing lights danced about.

I stared awestruck at them. I had never imagined there could be so many of them, and it made me realize how foolish I was to think that Tink was the only fairy. Of course there were more.

"The fairies," Peter said, gesturing grandly.

"Wow," I breathed finally. "What are they doing?"

"It's a festival," said Peter. "If you listen closely, you can hear them singing."

I strained my ears, and after a moment, I heard a beautiful melody, like the babbling of a brook or the sound of waves lapping at the shore. The glowing lights that were the fairies circled one another and then flitted to another partner, and I saw that they were dancing. I glanced sideways at Tinker Bell, who hovered near Peter's face, illuminating his excited features.

"Can we join them?" I asked tentatively.

Peter Pan blinked at me, then looked to Tink, whose light faltered as though she were thinking. Then she slowly moved towards the others. As she drifted away, her figure was enveloped by her warm yellow light, and she too became only a ball of light. Peter and I watched her go, anticipation rising. Tink disappeared into the fray, and we waited for her return.

After what felt like forever, Tinker Bell returned and beckoned us with her arms.

Peter Pan crowed like a rooster as he leapt up into the air. The lights scattered in alarm as he dashed through them, but then they continued their dancing.

"Come on, James!" Peter exclaimed.

With a smile on my face, I too revealed my presence and followed my friend's example. I did twirls and flips in the air, and soon enough, Peter had grabbed me started slow dancing with me. For a moment I was confused until I saw that the other fairies were partnered up as well. Then I shrugged and allowed Peter Pan to lead me, recklessly spinning. We nearly collided with the trees, at which point Peter released me and we both drifted off a little, dizzy.

We were both giggling and red-faced. This was the most fun I had had in a long while. I was so happy to have come with Peter Pan. No one back home could compare to him, not even my friend William.

"Let's go, James!" Peter said suddenly, flying away without looking back to see if I was following.

"Wait, Peter!" I called after him, rushing to catch up.

He flew up above the treetops, spreading his arms as though he were a bird. A euphoric look lit up his eyes as he flew higher and higher, then along the length of a rainbow. I followed, only just behind him. I watched him, wondering what on earth he was doing. He must have wanted to show me something. Peter turned fluidly in the air, changing direction and coasting along the edge of Neverland. He was flying to the far side of the island, behind the mountain. I hadn't been there before.

"Look down there," he said at last, pointing downwards.

I looked, and saw a majestic sight. The sea on the other side was as bright and clear as ever, but floating upon its waters was a huge ship like my uncle's. It had cloud-white sails, and tall strong masts. On its side was painted in beautiful calligraphy the name J_olly Roger_.

"It's beautiful!" I exclaimed.

"That's a pirate ship," Peter said, stopping midair to hover from a distance and examine it.

"Pirates?" I asked. "I didn't know there were pirates in Neverland."

"There are," he said, crossing his arms. "I'd stay away, if were you."

"Why?"

"Ha!" he scoffed. "Don't you know about pirates? They may be fun to fight, but they're liars and cheats. Never play by the rules, pirates."

"Oh," I uttered, somewhat sadly. "Does that mean we can't play on their ship?"

"Hm," Peter said thoughtfully, giving me a sideways glance. "How about we play a prank on those nasty old grownups?"

"Grownups? I thought you said there were no grownups in Neverland!"

"I meant grownups from your world!" Peter retorted. "Now what do you say we find a great big crab and set it loose aboard?"

"Oh, all right," I conceded at last, feeling still a little cross at his deception. But then I quickly forgot my grudge, as we flew from the pirates' startled and angry screams at the crab's pincers. We cackled as we flew, then laughed harder as we heard a rueful cry behind us, "Peter Pan, we'll get you for this!"

"Undefeated!" Peter called back triumphantly. "I'd like to see you try!"

I grinned back at the ship as it grew further and further away, then disappeared as we rounded the mountain and returned to Peter's cave.

"Oh, that reminds me," Peter said as he landed. I looked at him in curiosity as he began to rummage in a pile of his collections, tossing articles of clothing and seashells and oddly colored rocks over his shoulder. "Aha!"

I caught the item he tossed at me before it glanced off my face and looked at it. It was a red velvet hat, its wide brim turned up on both sides, gold stitching circumflexing it. At the left side a large white plume sprouted out, wispy strands swaying with movement.

"It's a pirate hat," Peter said. "I found it."

"Where?"

"Some pirate's head. It's not important," Peter shrugged.

I laughed and put it on. It was too large and slipped to one side. Peter chortled. "You make a great pirate, Captain James," he saluted.

I scoffed. "I'm not so cut out to be a pirate," I replied. "Adventures with you are a ton more fun!"

"Good!" Peter nodded. "May we never grow up." He spit on his palm and extended it to me, a smirk on his lips.

I too hocked in my hand and then clasped his, smiling. "May we adventure onwards, forever and always."

**A/N:** I feel like this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but oh well. I hope you enjoy it, anyway. Poor Tink always gets left behind by Peter. He's so insensitive to woman's feelings.

Anyway, thanks for reading! Join us next chapter for Searching the Subterrane!


	5. Searching the Subterrane

Chapter 5: Searching the Subterrane

I didn't know it when I woke that morning, but this day was the last I spent with Peter Pan.

"Wake up, James!" Peter shouted.

I yelped and jumped up, clutching my blanket to my chest. I remembered I was sleeping in a hammock when it tipped and dumped me onto the cold, hard cavern floor. I groaned loudly. "What is it, Peter Pan?"

"I found something!"

"Found what?" My interest had been piqued, and I sat up rubbing my eyes.

"Something new!" He spread his arms excitedly. "Come on, let's go!"

I pushed myself to my feet and ran toward the opening of the cave, where Peter floated waiting for me. Then I stopped short and turned back, picking up my sword that was once an arrow and the hat Peter had given me. Thinking of what lie ahead for me, my toes left the ground and we rushed off.

Peter chortled in front of me, a gleam in his eye.

"What is it?" I asked, catching up to him.

"You'll find out!" he said simply.

That only intensified the suspense, and I moaned loudly. "Come on, Peter! Tell me!"

"Nope!"

He went even faster, and I found it difficult to keep up. We were flying around the mountain, back towards where the pirate ship had been. My heart leapt to my throat. Had Peter found treasure?!

We passed the anchored pirate ship silently. The grownups must have still been asleep, because there seemed to be no life aboard. On the other side of the bay was a clump of green vines, which Peter flew toward and through. There was a cave behind those vines! I followed him excitedly.

When I entered, I had to stop and wait for my eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness. I wished I had brought a light, since Peter never seemed to need to adjust to his surroundings. Gloomy pillars loomed out of the darkness, and water dripped from the ceiling. It was the perfect hiding place for pirate treasure, of course.

I adjusted my hat and floated in. "Peter?" I whispered. I couldn't see him. He must have forgotten that I couldn't see and gone ahead.

I heard a ticking noise by my foot when I landed to look around. At first I thought it was the sound of water, but then I saw a small glint of light and peered more closely. It was a watch! I picked it up and looked at it. It looked to be of gold. I didn't have any pockets, and I didn't want to carry it, so I strapped it to my left wrist. It ticked very loudly, and I wondered why I hadn't heard it earlier.

"Peter?" I tried again. Surely he would have noticed I was gone and come back to look for me. But there was no reply, so I ventured farther into the darkness.

I stepped in a cold pool of water and gasped at the sudden sensation. I dropped my sword and said a harsh word that I had heard my father use once. I wasn't entirely sure what it meant, but it seemed appropriate to say at the moment.

It was too dark for me to see clearly, so I had to resort to groping around. I knelt at the edge of the pool and kept my balance with my right hand. My left felt around in the water where I thought my sword might be. I wished once more that I had brought a light.

My hand touched cold stone. I reached out farther and felt something hard and rough. There was a stone rising from the water a few inches in front of me, I saw then. Surely my sword must have landed between it and me, but I just couldn't seem to find it. I supposed Peter would have to get it for me, if I could convince him to come back.

"Peter Pan!" My voice echoed off the walls around me. A rock came loose somewhere and slipped into the water with a soft plink. I sighed. It was no use. I'd have to go farther in and find him.

I thought of sunshine and flowers, then moved forward. I stepped into the cold pool again. "Huh?" I shook my head. That thought wasn't happy enough for flying. So I thought of the feeling I got when I flew, and moved forward. But once more I found myself standing in the cold water. I stepped out of it again, feeling quite confused. Perhaps the pixie dust had worn off?

"Peter Pan!" I called as loudly as I dared.

My only reply was my echo and a quiet plinking of water. It sounded nearer this time, but I shrugged it off to my imagination-that is, until I heard it again, even closer than before. There was a quiet scraping sound. My heart began to pound in my chest, and I knelt back down to retrieve my sword. I was very aware of how loudly my watch was ticking, but I couldn't take the time to throw it away. I needed my sword!

The rocks in front of me moved slightly, and I froze. A gleaming yellow orb appeared near one end. It wasn't a rock rise at all, I suddenly realized. It was a great big crocodile. And I had woken it.

"Peter," I whimpered, backing away from it. "N-Nice crocodile," I said softly as its eye locked onto me. I held out my left hand appraisingly, still desperately groping for my sword with my right. Where was it?! I could only scream in terror as it attacked me with a menacing growl, and then I knew no more.

When I woke, I found myself on a comfortable bed, surrounded by four walls and candles. My first thought was that I was home, and that everything had been a dream. But when I raised my hand to touch my head, I knew that Neverland was real.

I could tell it was night by the darkness outside the window. The room rocked gently, and I could hear the sea. I was on the pirate ship! With a quick look around, I found myself alone, and I snuck out. Peter Pan had told me to stay away! But-where was Peter? Had he been captured, too?

I saw a few grownups lounging around, but they were fast asleep. It was night, after all. I still couldn't fly, whether because I could think no happy thoughts or because I had no pixie dust, I didn't know, but I did know that I had to get back to Peter. I stole a small rowboat and somehow managed to push myself off toward shore, though it took a long while for me to reach it. By then the moon had risen high in the starry sky.

I looked up at the mountain. It would be a long trek back to Peter's hideout. I didn't remember most of the journey, but near dawn I found myself panting and crouching outside the entrance to his cave. I could hear him inside, whooping about something or other. I felt a pang of anger at him. Why wasn't he looking for me?

I heard another voice and stopped cold. With a niggling suspicion, I crept toward the entrance and peered inside. There was Peter, talking animatedly about something as he floated near the ceiling. Below him, looking up at him adoringly, was a young boy, perhaps a little younger than us. He had shaggy blonde hair and a button nose, and was dressed in a bright orange nightclothes.

"You're a Lost Boy, now!" Peter was saying.

White hot anger coursed through my blood.

"There was another one," he continued with a thoughtful expression, "but I can't find him anywhere! So that's why I went to get you. You're my new friend, now, Slightly."

"Wow!" the boy exclaimed.

Then I could bear no more, so I turned and ran. There was only one place where I could go where Peter Pan would not come. I returned to the pirate ship.

Needless to say, I didn't see Peter Pan for a very long time. I was angry and bitter at him for giving up so quickly, and that he had neglected to tell me that pixie dust eventually wore off. He'd left me to fend off a crocodile, and I'd lost. Oh, how I hated Peter Pan! I wanted nothing to do with him ever again. The pirates were my new family. They explained things to me, helped me adjust to my condition. And I grew up. Peter Pan, a liar and a not-loyal friend to me, didn't. I could see him sometimes, swooping through the air, screaming incessantly. I grew tired of his shenanigans. I convinced the pirates to go to his hideout with me. Peter had collected more friends from the other world-more Lost Boys. I hated them, too.

I was surprised Peter Pan didn't recognize me, but then again I had grown quite tall and handsome. So I said to him, in honor of my new hand, "Call me Captain Hook."

**A/N: **Actually, I wasn't expecting to finish the story today. But hey, inspiration hits whenever.

Was anyone surprised, really? If you weren't just let me have it and tell me how much I suck at keeping secrets. Meh. There was going to be another chapter after this one, but it was way too short so I just dropped it here.

As always, thanks for reading! I really appreciate you guys, so yeah. :) Hope you don't hate it.


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